


Squeaky Clean

by Inactive_Account



Series: Shouta Lance [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bathing/Washing, Dirty Talk, M/M, Massage, Shouta, Underage - Adult/Minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 20:46:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14410242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inactive_Account/pseuds/Inactive_Account
Summary: Four-year old Lance goes to a sleepover.Shiro cleans up his dirty boy with a hot and steamy bath.





	Squeaky Clean

“Will you behave, my darling?”

Allura knelt down onto the carpeted floor. Two gloved hands reached out towards Lance, who ran straight into her arms with loud giggles, and – as she laughed in turn – Shiro smiled to see her hold him impossibly tight and swing him wildly around. He clutched hard on the collar of her dress and called out ‘faster, faster’ with childish glee. The scent of her perfume drifted through the air, while shadows danced across the wall behind her, and there were visible tears in her purple eyes as she dropped Lance onto the floor. Lance frowned.

It was a familiar expression, which broke Shiro’s heart to witness. There were too many times when Keith would wobble his lips and his eyes would shine, all because Shiro was required to leave him for some important appointment, and now – as Lance gulped down air with loud chokes – he sensed the same oncoming tears. Allura sniffed in turn, as she reached out to run her hands through his hair over and over with a broken smile. Allura whispered:

“Are you excited about your first sleepover?”

Lance jumped on the balls of his feet. He reached to her with fists opening and closing, even as Coran came to kneel beside them with a wince of pain, and together they fussed and hugged and kissed him until a hopeful smile broke over his face. Shiro stood awkwardly in the open archway, as he eyed the front door and covertly checked his watch, but soon both parents stood and pulled their hands away with lingering touches. It was all it took to finally break Lance, who let out a long wail with a wide-open mouth and clenched fists.

“No, I want you to stay,” cried Lance.

Shiro lifted a hand to signal for them to stay in place. He darted through the hall to the foot of the staircase, where Lance now slammed down his body and started punching at the steps, and he whisked the four-year old into his muscular arms with a low hum. The vibrations through his chest provided a small comfort, as Lance sobbed and screamed and stammered against him, and he supported Lance with a hand on his buttock and one on his neck.

It took little effort to turn his body to hide his lower hand, which enabled him to steal a squeeze of that soft and plump buttock, and he lowered his head against Lance, so that he could steal a sniff of the baby shampoo and talcum powder. Lance soon stopped, although his cheeks were red and a line of drool fell from his lips. Little choked sobs echoed out at random points, until Coran ran over and placed a kiss to the top of his head, which brought a sniff from Lance who smacked him away, as if he were deeply betrayed.

“Don’t worry,” said Shiro. “I’ve got him.”

“I cannot help but fret,” confessed Allura. “We need to socialise him, just as I know he will have immense fun when he calms down, but he appears so scared to be left alone, as if we would dare to forget him! Do you have his bedtime list? He must have his night-light, as well as Bedtime Bear in his bed, and he loves being sung lullabies while he sleeps.”

“Ah, but no stories about crocodiles,” chirped Coran. “I _may_ have scared the wee lad the other night . . . it was that old song about the crocodile and the monkeys, but it startled him so badly that we had to hide his toy crocodile from his room! He’s slept in our bed since, so he may feel better with you or with Keith . . . it was _such_ a catchy tune, too. ‘ _Snap_ goes –’”

Coran clapped his hands together on the ‘snap’.

Lance screamed out once again.

The loud sound pierced their ears and brought winces all around. Allura glared hard at Coran and brought a gloved hand to his ear, where a sharp twist brought out a loud continued cry of ‘ouch, ouch, ouch’ from his lips, and – with a loud huff of frustration – she dragged Coran over to the front door and finally let go to reveal a red ear. Lance finally quietened down and looked to Coran, where he reached out with another clench of his fist, while Coran openly wept and reached back as if they could touch over all that space. Allura said with a sigh:

“We’ll be back tomorrow after breakfast.”

“Goodbye, son,” called Coran.

Shiro gave an exaggerated wave, which coaxed Lance into following suit. They walked to the door and continued to wave, even as Coran wept all the more than his son, and soon they were watching Coran and Allura climbing into their car, before they drove away for a romantic evening that would probably somehow be spent talking about soccer games and bake sales before an early night of sleep. Shiro smiled and kicked the door shut.

He plopped Lance down onto the bottom step of the stairs. It took only a few tugs to convince him to shuck his coat and shoes, even his socks and sweater, and soon – as Shiro licked his lips – Lance stood only in shorts that showed off bare legs. Lance pouted, clearly frustrated that he was seemingly abandoned by his parents, but otherwise showed no signs of concern. He spent a lot of time half-naked . . . _swimming lessons, playing in the paddling pool, trying on clothes . . ._ Shiro grew half-hard at the lack of modesty or self-consciousness.

If anything, he looked proud of his tiny body. Coran and Allura told him time and time again that he was beautiful . . . he bore the skin and eyes of his mother, but the broad physique and sharp features of his father . . . Shiro wanted to see him naked. The shorts were so tight that they clung to his buttocks and rode up on his thigh, but they hid that tiny mound from sight and left Shiro with a watering mouth. Shiro suggested with a sigh:

“Why don’t you run upstairs?”

“Why?” Lance asked. “I don’t want to play with Keith. He’s icky!”

“Is that right?” Shiro laughed. “Well, Keith and I were just about to take a bath. You can sit with me and play with me, because Keith likes to read his bath-time book. He’s so _boring_ that way, isn’t he? You’re not boring, though. I bet you love baths!”

Lance jumped on the balls of his feet. He bore a bright smile and clasped his hands before him, while he hopped from foot to foot with sparkling eyes, and – with loud giggles – he clearly responded well to being considered ‘better’ than Keith, as well as complimented by one of his heroes. Shiro noticed that his tiny nipples were erect, likely from the cool air, while Lance was already jumping one step higher with a devilish grin. It was obvious he was about to run, desperate to get to the bath to prove he wasn’t boring. Lance shouted:

“Okay, I’ll race you, Shiro!”

Shiro laughed as Lance ran up the staircase. He followed behind at a slow pace, only to find – at the very top of the stairs – a pair of shorts that were clearly ripped off in a rush. Shiro swallowed hard and looked down the hallway, but the only sight was that of a large mist of steam escaping the open bathroom door, and the door itself still swung on its hinges as light leaked out into the hallway. Shiro licked his lips and brought the shorts to his nose.

He breathed deep the rich scent, as his cock grew rock hard. A few more steps – and a few more sniffs – brought him to the bathroom door, where he looked through the crack to see Keith and Lance both naked and sitting side-by-side. Keith already had his waterproof book before him, while Lance asked over and over ‘what’s that’, and Keith would say out the word and then spell out the letters, only for Lance to gasp at his reading comprehension. They sat oblivious to how attractive they looked, both absorbed in the book.

Lance was hot. Shiro was so hard that his cock ached, leaking pre-come that stained his trousers and left a visible stain, and he couldn’t help but to stare at the uncircumcised boy-cock that fell soft and small between two plump thighs. He was already shirking his clothes, while his heart raced and his body broke into a heavy sweat, and he stood into the doorway until he was completely nude save for his wet underpants. He licked at his lips.

“Time for your bath, boys,” called Shiro.

Keith was on his feet. He climbed over the side of the claw-foot tub, using a small stool put there for his convenience, and slid down at the side closest to the taps, where he dropped his book before him and read with little interest in anything else. The bath routine was merely a chance to relax for Keith, to help ease him into a good night’s sleep, so some nights he was able to forgo washing and just fall asleep – _under supervision_ – against the porcelain, until Shiro carried him into the bedroom and fucked his sleeping form between his thighs.

Shiro saw Lance standing with hands in the air. He knew – in that instant – Coran must have lifted him into the tub and even bathed with him, which would make things much easier, as Lance wouldn’t question him joining them for a little ‘fun’. Shiro hooked his hands under warm armpits and lifted Lance into the tub, before he turned his body away from Lance and dropped his underpants to the tiled floor. Lance giggled and asked in a quiet voice:

“How come you turn around to do that?”

“He’s being polite,” muttered Keith.

Shiro awkwardly climbed into the bathtub. It took great dexterity to climb into the water without showing the children his erection, especially as Lance tried over and over to climb on him and pull at him and play with him, but soon he leaned back on the porcelain and pull Lance between his legs. The boy smiled and laughed, as he fell back and rested his head on Shiro’s stomach, while his tiny hands played with Shiro’s leg hair, sending shivers down his spine. Shiro nearly came on the spot, as Lance pressed against his cock. Lance asked:

“What’s that hard thing?”

“You ask too many questions, stupid,” spat Keith.

“Keith, _be nice_ ,” ordered Shiro. “That’s just a bar of soap, Lance. Just ignore it and let me clean you up, okay? Keith will probably just read his book; I’ll get you all squeaky clean and shiny until you sparkle like a diamond, so you’re all tidy and happy for bed!”

“Will you get soap in my eyes? I hate that,” muttered Lance.

“I promise I won’t get any soap there.”

A row of marble shelves sat along the wall, just a few inches from the bath, where an array of bath products and toys sat neatly ordered in perfect condition, and he took a plastic cup into hand to scoop at the warm water. He poured it lightly over Lance’s head in a trickle, as he repeated the action with many smiles, and Lance smiled in turn with a loud gasp and an observation that the soap didn’t hurt him. Shiro kept it a secret there was no soap.

He buried his fingers into Lance’s hair. The warm buttocks were pressed to his cock, which soon nestled between them and was clenched until pre-come spurted from the head, and – noticing Lance was still oblivious – he started to provide a scalp massage. If Lance thought that Shiro could wash his hair ‘better’ than other adults, with no tears or tantrums, it might lead to more baths . . . more showers, more swims, more _massages_. . . Lance moaned underneath his ministrations, while Keith only yawned and rubbed at his eyes.

Keith brought his waterproof book to the porcelain. The pages were soft and cushioned, so it made a good makeshift pillow, and he nuzzled against it until his eyes closed and his breathing slowed, so that Shiro made a mental note to keep a close eye on him. At some point, he would have to chastise him. If the habit continued into adulthood, where he would be unsupervised, it could lead to him potentially drowning and losing his life.

“Time to wash your body, love,” whispered Shiro.

“You need to wash my back, Shiro! I can’t reach there.”

Shiro laughed and thrust between the baby buttocks. He squeezed some liquid soap onto his palm, before pushing it back onto the shelf with a wet hand, and slowly worked his fingers over Lance’s neck and shoulders, digging in to provide a deep-muscle massage. Lance groaned and closed his eyes, while he finally ceased his pointless babbling and endless comments, and simple contented himself in being ‘cleaned’ by callused hands.

“I’ll wash your back next-to-last,” whispered Shiro again.

He ran his hands over arms and massaged them with rapid strokes, while he cast his eyes over to Keith and noticed that he slept with flickering movements of his eyes beneath eyelids, and Shiro swallowed hard as his erection throbbed against soft and plump skin. Every touch of Lance’s flesh brought further pants from his mouth and tingles to his flesh, as he soon guided the boy to lean forward and watched as Lance knelt with feet under his buttocks.

It was a position that would have been acceptable. Shiro did not expect for Lance to ‘get comfortable’ by leaning forward on his hands, so that he was _nearly_ on all fours with his head not far from Keith’s lap, and Shiro had to shoot a hand to his cock to grip hard, as he forced back an orgasm at the very sight. _This would be too easy_. He saw the buttocks now half-out of the water, while Lance started babbling about his day at nursery and how the teacher ran out of milk and how the maths sums were too difficult and how Keith said –

Shiro squirted the scented lubrication onto hand. It doubled as massage oil, while also tasted like strawberries, and the ‘special function’ was designed to interact with the skin and bring about extra sensitivity and bring thousands of erotic tingles . . . when applied to the anus. Lance would not feel the effects as it ran over his back, with big hands working out knots and trailing patterns down his spine, and they even failed to notice when Shiro lingered at the crease between cheeks and thighs, where he squeezed delicious round globes.

He parted the cheeks and saw the winking hole; it was tinged brown around the edges, while wrinkled and creased from years of usage, and it looked so inviting . . . _so warm, so tight_. . . he wanted to know what it felt like inside. It would be so easy to feel around, while bringing immense pleasure to Lance in the process, and maybe he could get the boy to _beg_ for future ‘cleanings’ if he played his cards right. Shiro laughed and lightly spanked him.

“It’s time to clean you inside,” said Shiro.

“Inside where?”

“Inside your butt, Lance.” Shiro licked his lips and spanked him again. “You poop a lot from there, right? It gets super dirty! Your papa is supposed to clean you there, but I guess he never did make sure you get squeaky clean . . . he’ll feel sad about that . . . you don’t want him to be sad, do you? _I know_! I’ll get you clean again, but it can be our secret.”

“If I tell him how dirty I am, he’ll be sad?” Lance splashed a little in the water. “I don’t want him to be sad! I can keep this secret. I’ll pretend to always be clean, so he’ll never realise that I’m a dirty boy, and then you can make it all good again, right?”

“Yeah, I can, you _dirty_ boy. You dirty _, dirty_ boy.”

Shiro lubricated his index finger. He brought it to the round hole, where he brushed around the outside and saw Lance shiver at the touch, before he spanked Lance again and ordered him to hold his cheeks apart, and Lance – ever naive – obeyed without question. Shiro nearly came again, as he pushed a little to part the hole and massage the sensitive area. A part of him wanted to suck Lance off and rub at his perineum, but he couldn’t go too far when he wanted Lance to willingly come back for more and more. Shiro circled the brown hole.

“When I push in, push out like you’re pooping, okay?”

“Okay, Shiro! I can do that,” chirped Lance.

Lance bent forward until his face touched the water. It brought giggles to his lips, as he blew bubbles in the water not too far from Keith’s crotch, and tried to sing with his face beneath the surface, so as to make his voice sound ‘funny’.  The laughter soon stopped, as Shiro slid his finger in to the first knuckle. Lance cried out and let go of his cheeks. Two tiny hands gripped the sides of the porcelain, as he arched his back and gripped dangerously hard around Shiro’s finger, while he panted and gasped and started to clench with great heat.

It took a few rubs of his lower back to relax him, but soon he remembered Shiro’s advice and obeyed without question by pushing out, although his face turned red and his cheeks puffed out, and Shiro was forced to remind him that he wasn’t _really_ trying to poop. Luckily, the milking action of his inner walls dragged Shiro’s finger in to the last knuckle. Shiro swore under his breath. He felt every hot inner ridge of that perfect tunnel. Shiro asked:

“Does it hurt, Lance?”

Lance shook his head and brought a hand to his mouth. Tiny teeth bit into his fist, while his other hand gripped the porcelain until knuckles turned white, and Lance was fluttering his inner walls around Shiro’s finger, even as Shiro was on the verge of coming from the forbidden intimacy that took place between them. He slowly worked his finger in and out, in and out, until he curled his finger and brushed against that special spot deep inside.

Lance cried out. He actually slipped until Shiro jumped forward and wrapped an arm around his stomach, holding him in place until small hand fisted in Shiro’s black hair and yanked hard, and Shiro milked his prostate with expert touches, until Lance was writhing and his boy-cock was hard as a wood. The two of them were on their knees, towering over a sleeping Keith who was darkened by their shadows, as Shiro finger-fucked his little come-bucket into a stupor. He added another finger, which was swallowed without any issue.

The finger met its partner, where they felt every pulse. Shiro dragged his fingers out and rammed them inside, _over and over and over_ , until Lance was mewling and panting and moaning so loud that Keith stirred and Shiro threw his hand over that mouth. He felt every hot and moist breath on his palm, while Lance accidentally licked at his flesh as he sought to gain some semblance of coherent thought. Shiro kissed his neck and laughed.

“The better it feels, the cleaner it is inside,” said Shiro.

“S-So – So – So this is how I get clean?”

“Uh-huh, my fucking slut.”

Lance tried to whisper something . . . _‘t-that’s – that’s a b-bad word’_. . . sadly his words were lost as he thrust back down on Shiro’s fingers and fucked himself with abandon, until they were working with a perfectly timed rhythm, and Shiro soon removed his hand to jerk at his cock just below the water. The head was leaking pre-come at an astounding rate, while it rested just above the water that sent waves through the bathtub from his jerks, and meanwhile Lance threw back his head and his eyes rolled until there were nothing but white.

“ _Uh – oh – ah – ah – oh no – I – it – ooh!”_

“Tell me you’re a dirty boy.”

“I – I’m a dirty boy,” said Lance. “I – I’m a dirty boy!”

Shiro could hold back no longer. He came long and hard, until ropes of come shot over his fingers between the two perky buttocks, and – pulling his digits out to scoop up some of the come – he rammed them back into Lance until his come filled him. The waves of ecstasy coursed through every nerve and every vein. He bit his lip to hold back a scream, only to break the skin and taste the iron of blood, and – with a few last jerks – he almost collapsed from the overwhelming orgasm that ripped through his psyche. _Heaven_.

“I – I think I need to pee,” whined Lance.

Lance clenched his inner walls. They gripped Shiro like a vice, until he cried out long and hard and the sound pierced his ears, and Keith groaned and threw his hands over his ears, while he muttered to them to be quiet and leave him to sleep. Lance shuddered and shivered, as he dry-came and collapsed forward with heavy choked for oxygen. He nearly fell face first onto Keith, but Shiro caught him just in time and jerked him backward.

They lay together in a tangle of limbs. Lance was struggling to breathe, while he would tighten his hole any time Shiro reached back to touch its loose ring, and – flushed red – he seemed genuinely torn between being ‘cleaned’ again and asking Shiro to stop. He would likely be confused and overwhelmed. The aftercare was important, so Shiro made a mental note to dry him off and massage him and remind him that this was a _secret_ , before sliding Lance into his bed to nuzzle against him while he slept. Shiro hummed in contentment.

“Am I all clean?” Lance asked. “I’m no longer a dirty boy?”

“No, Lance, you’re all squeaky clean!”

Shiro kissed his wet hair, while he secretly hoped Lance might ‘ask’ to be finger-fucked again in future using those words . . . _‘I’m a dirty boy, Shiro, so please clean me’_. . . he grew half-hard again and groaned with his cock already throbbing between Lance’s legs. He mumbled a comment about the ‘soap being back’, while Lance yawned and rubbed at his eyes with a sleepy gesture, and Shiro kissed him again with a smirk, as he swore:

“One day I’ll get you _real_ dirty, though.”


End file.
